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Saturday, October 1, 2011

Stumpjump 50k 2011

It seems like only yesterday when we
would line up at the starting line, maybe 40-50 of us, and take off into the
woods of Signal Mountain, only to be spit back out hours later onto a soccer
field occupied by kids in the midst of a full-fledged game, with their parents
cheering for us (we thought, but really for their kids) as we circled around
the perimeter back to the parking lot to which we started, greeted by a few
folks and a slice of pizza.

And now, the Rock/Creek Stumpjump
50k has become the premier ultra event of the southeast, with hundreds at the
starting line, a helicopter escort from the Signal Mountain High School parking
lot into the woods, and commemorative medals to finishers, not to mention the
Food Network-style food truck serving up killer burgers and fries! What a race
day experience! Thanks goes first and foremost to Rock/Creek, Wild Trails, all
the sponsors, and ultrarunning’s first couple, Randy and Kris Whorton for all
of their hard work and dedication to make this race experience one of the best
in the country.

Coming through the summer months of
grueling hot-weather running, I knew that I really wanted to make this year’s
experience at Stumpjump one to remember. I trained really hard, running tempo
runs and track workouts to the point of asphyxiation, and then pushing further.
I cut down on “junk runs”, saving my mileage for runs that would help me
achieve my goal, which was to run my guts out. That’s all I wanted to do. Run
myself into the ground, and then keep going.

This was my 7th year to run
Stumpjump (I think), and while I had posted a good time on the course before, I
really wanted to show this grinder of a race that I could do it on its new
course as well. The knowledge of the course played well for me. I knew right
where the aid stations were, the distance and terrain between them, and I knew
that the race doesn’t really start until you see Suck Creek road for the second
time. I knew that it was all about the last 10k, which included the climb up to
Mushroom Rock, and the seemingly all uphill 4-mile finish to the high school.

I had my game plan ready, and if I
stuck with it, keeping myself fueled and hydrated along the way, I knew that
whatever the result, it was going to be my best effort.

So 8 am came quickly, and the field was off… really, really
fast. No doubt the amazing weather contributed to the quick pace, but it was
secured by the fact that the front-runners included David Riddle (if you don’t
know who he is, just look at the results of the race and go from there). As we
traveled on the trails around the High School and towards the actual race
beginning at Mushroom Rock, the field gradually began to separate, with the
fast pace splitting everyone up. Jay Curwen remarked that the pace at the front
must be around or below 6 minute miles, as we were cruising along at around 7s…
“We are on pace for a 4:01,” he said, but none of us seemed to flinch. At least
not yet.

I ran behind Jay and we steamed down
Mushroom Rock, up the next climb, and back down towards the creek and the road
crossing, which meant aid station #1… but none of us stopped, we just kept
cruising. The pace began to steady as we made our way towards the bluff and
followed it around to Indian Rock. After the volunteers topped off my CamelBak insulated handheld with Heed, I slammed a cup of Coke
and was off again, this time playing catch up for a bit until I could get the
heels of a few other runners.

One of them was from Seattle, and
remarked that this was his first experience racing on the East coast. We
conversed for a good amount of time, passing through the Mullens Cove Loop at a
very steady pace. We made our way through the next aid station, where I grabbed
a Hammer gel and some more Heed, and we continued to gain ground, running at a
steady pace. At the climb before the mile 17(ish) aid station, I began to press
a bit, knowing that the rock garden was soon ahead, and that it would
inevitably slow the pace down due to the constant finding of footing.

I left my Seattle buddy out on the
climb out of the aid station, and pressed until the rock garden, where I took a
wrong turn (because I was looking down too much), but quickly regained my
bearings, not losing too much time. I felt fresh, so the misdirection did not
weigh on my psyche, as I knew I still had plenty in the tank to burn. I got out
of the rock garden unscathed, minus the tree that stabbed me in the leg, but no
worries there. I got to the aid station at mile 19, and the volunteers there
took my bottle and topped it off, allowing me to slam a cup of Coke and open my
tropical-flavor Hammer gel, and off I went, into the last 4ish miles until the
real race started.

I cruised through the Indian Rock
House aid station, and was happy to hear the voice of Jamie Dial (good to see
you brother!) encouraging me to keep it up. I was beginning to settle in at
this point, really getting ready for the downhill that leads to Suck Creek and
then the grueling 10k finish. I drank all of my fluid so as to be well prepared
and not have to impede my breathing with drinking on the monster climbs up to
Mushroom rock. Soon enough, I was coming off the bluff and began to lay on the
gas, flying downhill and praying that my steps were swift but solid so as to
not to stumble. I came down the stairs that lead me to the road, and saw two of
my fellow Rock/Creek race team members making their way down the brief section
of road towards the guardrail that would lead us to the next aid station.

John Wiygul and Josh Wheeler both
left the aid station ahead of me, but I had a game plan, and I was determined
to stay with it, again reminding myself that I wanted to do my best… “Strong
and Courageous… not by might nor by power,” I said over and over again. I took
down two cups of soda as the volunteers re-filled my bottle with Heed. “And now
it starts… from here to the finish!” I told myself.

I crossed the bridge and started
climbing the gnarly, twisted single track that led up to the sky. I ran as much
as it made sense, and power-walked the rest. Soon I had caught one of my fellow
race team members and, after some encouragement, pressed on. Down the backside
of the first climb, and then up the final climb to Mushroom rock. “Strong and
Courageous” were my words, and I began to lift the pace ever so slightly,
knowing the top was near. Soon enough the big rock appeared, balancing ever
precariously atop its perch, and along with it were the yellow R/C flags that
led to the final aid station of the day.

Rock/Creek Race team members Sara
Woerner and Sheridan Ames were there, with some final words of encouragement
for me as I slammed another cup of soda. Now it was really time to press, to
pour it all out. The last 4-ish miles of this race are grueling, as the trail
weaves its way around up and down, but inevitably towards the finish. My plan
for this last section to the finish was to run every step, no matter what.

Up, down, cramps, whatever… it
didn’t matter. I was going to run every step to the finish as hard as I
possibly could. I had done this before in my training, so I knew how it would
feel, but I also knew what it felt like to push that hard. I knew what it would
take for me to get to that point, but I knew what to expect when I was there.
So I gritted my teeth, and suffered with every step.

I soon caught up with my fellow R/C team member John Wiygul,
and he gave me a good push as I passed him. He is one of those guys that is
always encouraging, no matter how he may be feeling, and he didn’t fail to
offer me some words that I needed.

Soon I crossed the road with about a
mile-and-a-half to go. “Keep it up,” the sentry said, “.8 miles to go!”

Well, luckily I knew the course, so
I wasn’t fooled… I knew I had more than that to go. I just continued to grit
and grind, forcing myself to run faster. “Strong and Courageous,” I said, over
and again. I popped out onto the road for the final time, and knew I had a
half-mile to go. I thought briefly of the speed work sessions I had done, and
the half-mile repeats on the track that had brought me to the point of
suffocation, and then I sped up.

“All the way to the finish… faster
than this… all the way… ‘Strong and Courageous’ …you have more …to the finish!”

I hit the turn and saw the finishing
banner and poured it out. As my throat began to close up, I crossed the finish,
and I knew I had done my best. I had done my absolute best, and it had paid
off. I finished in 5th place with a 4:47, but more than that, I knew I had
pushed it as hard as I could.

I got my bearings about me, and
congratulated the other finishers as they came in. Soon enough, my friend Ryan
finished up his day, and then came my wife Bev, who always finishes up with a
big smile. The finish line atmosphere was amazing, and the energy was
contagious. The faces of the finishers are always priceless, as some are
finishing their first-ever ultra, and you can usually tell them by their huge
smiles and embraces from family members following their finish.

This is something that has not
changed at StumpJump since its inception, and I dare say it never will. The
feeling and exhilaration of finishing, and the camaraderie of all of us that
get out there and enjoy this sport… that’s what it’s all about. Seeing the
finishers, cheering with their families, high-fiving, sharing the stories of
the day, catching up with old-friends, and running the best course the south
has to offer.

Thanks a ton to all the aid station
volunteers who helped us out there, as well as those who work tirelessly behind
the scenes with the timing, course marking, etc. that make the race great.
Thanks to Rock/Creek for the opportunity to be a part of something much bigger
than myself, and again to all the sponsors for the help in growing the event
and the sport. Now it’s time to get some rest and heal up… the Lookout
Mountain 50-miler is right around the corner!